


Song as Old as Rhyme

by viperscreed



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Jaskier | Dandelion, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom!Jaskier, Leo is ALIVE and Babey, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top!Geralt, possibly even by witcher fandom standards, the bois are soft, this might develop into a polycule situation, witcher!Leo, with some switching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26740162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viperscreed/pseuds/viperscreed
Summary: In a one of a kind tale, Geralt asks Jaskier to winter with him at Kaer Morhen.Alt Title: Tiny alpha is obsessed with giant omega boyfriend four times his size!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier could never pass for an omega. Maybe a beta at a distance but once he was close enough there were a hundred little tells. The way he walked, the heavy set of his teeth when he smiled and the density of him when he leaned on you. So even though he was runty, there wasn’t any doubt.

Geralt as well could never pass for an omega despite being one. The one tell he had, his omegan fangs, would only be visible if he ever smiled. Which he never did.

Not in public at least.

Certainly not around this public.

The town was small yet bustling and so incredibly loud. This far into his preheat Geralt could just barely stand it and would much rather camp out in the woods. Roach however deserved a night in a warm stable to rest before the climb to Kaer Morhen. To a lesser extent he supposed Jaskier did too.

“I’ll get the room while you get her stabled?” Jaskier inquired while Geralt dismounted. It wasn’t really in question, sending Jaskier first was the best way of procuring a room but he still asked. Geralt nodded with a gruff hum.

He led his mare into the stable, her posture slacked as soon as she entered the shade.

“Take your horse sir?” A stableboy asked, trying desperately not to shake out of his boots.

“No,” Geralt brushed him off, taking Roach to one of the back stalls. He paused and looked at the boy. “There’s a ducat in it for you if you fetch her grain and water.”

The boy shot off like he had coals in his boots. Geralt huffed a laugh before beginning the process of stripping Roach of her tack. He let himself linger; she was tired but he wanted to give her some much needed love.

He left when the boy brought her dinner.

The inside of the tavern reeked; preheat twisted his already heightened senses to make scents that he once could easily ignore make him nauseous. Sweat, manure, the grim of a farming community all packed into one, hot room. Geralt held his breath and went up stairs.

The faint sound of his alpha’s humming through the walls lead him to the last room on the right. He let himself in the unlocked door. Jaskier paused rummaging through his bag to cast a glance over his shoulder, smiling when he saw his witcher. He turned back to his bag, digging in elbow deep. That perfume had to be somewhere.

“Should I play tonight, it's getting chilly. The crowds will be bigger.” Jaskier contemplated aloud while rummaging through his bag; Geralt was never sure if he actually wanted his input.

The witcher didn’t say anything, crowding up behind Jaskier instead and grabbing his hips to pull him back against his chest. It earned him a surprised squeak and burying his nose into the other’s neck garnered him a groan. The little alpha smelled like his namesake with several other floral scents from his soaps and perfumes.

Geralt wanted to throw him in a bath to wash them off.

“Stay, I need to talk to you.” His voice rumbled like thunder, sending a shiver down Jaskier’s spine.

“Please tell me this is a conversation we can have without clothing.” Jaskier asked and feathers fluttered in his chest when he felt a smirk press into his skin.

“I want you to come to Kaer Morhen with me this winter.” There was a beat of silence. It didn't startle Geralt since he could hear the uptick in Jaskier’s heartbeat and the sharp sweetness of his arousal cresting. The bard turned around in his arms, splaying hands over the broad expanse of his chest.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but are you asking me to be your heat partner Geralt of Rivia?” Jaskier was grinning, all too smug for Geralt’s liking.

“No pressure, Jaskier the Bard, I always have my brothers in arms if you have other plans.” Geralt teased and fingers that had been spread out, curled around the clasps in his armor. The large omega allowed himself to be pulled into a kiss.

“I would love to go with you.” 

With predictably inhuman strength Geralt grabbed the underside of Jaskier’s thighs and lifted him. The smaller man absolutely didn’t squeal with delight when he was tossed down onto the mattress; blue eyes glittering. The witcher, all smoldering eyes and hulking muscle, climbed onto the bed with him and Jaskier’s deft fingers reached for the clasps of his armor.

“Tell me about your pack.” He breathed, tossing the first bit of leather to the floor.

“I have.” Geralt’s less dexterous fingers sought out the delicate ties of Jaskier’s clothing. The smack to his chest didn’t deter him at all.

“Actually tell me about them.” Jaskier insisted. A half bitten whine was caught in his throat as his doublet was thrown open and calloused hands ran through his chest hair.

“You’ll probably get along with Eskel best, Lambert’s a shit, Leo’s the pack pup and Vesemir is for all purposes our father.” Geralt shot off quickly, ignoring the good natured eye roll from Jaskier. They’d have the whole trip up the mountain for him to weasel details out of the stoic man.

Geralt crowded into his space, caging him in and burying his face into his alpha’s throat. He licked a long line along the soft skin, not flinching away from the bitter taste of Jaskier’s perfume. Geralt’s canines were long, thicker than a mortal omega’s, and the thorn sharp tips caught on Jaskier’s skin. 

Still mostly clothed and those fangs alone had Jaskier’s belly curling deliciously; his breath audibly stuttering. The bard’s hips ground against Geralt’s thigh, seeking any amount of friction. Geralt’s scent was usually muted, a witcher thing he had been told, but now the sharp frostbitten fir cloyed as his nose making his mouth water.

He loathed to have those teeth off of him but the witcher had to pull back so he could yank his undershirt off of him.

Geralt didn’t cage him in again, instead wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist and hauling him up into his lap. Jaskier’s hands clutched his biceps, the hulking muscle hot under his calloused fingers. The bard almost swooned.

“Melitele’s tits, Geralt, you need to warn a man.” Jaskier panted, squeezing the flesh under his hands.

“Where’s the sport in that?” Geralt chuckled. The sound was warm and heavy, feeding directly into Jaskier’s arousal. Chest to chest, Jaskier leaned forward catching Geralt’s lips with his own.

“You know I can’t take my pants off like this right?” He asked and Geralt huffed.

“Fine.” The omega dropped him onto the mattress, smiling down at him when he recovered from the bounce.

Jaskier with practiced ease wiggled out of his pants and under things. Geralt barely held back a possessive growl thinking about all the experience the alpha had. It was silly, he knew that but the preheat had him more mareish then Roach when she was in season.

With one of his massive hands and with the casualness of flipping a book page he grabbed Jaskier’s hip and turned him over. Jaskier gasped, fingers curling in the sheets. A soft groan passed the alpha’s lips as sword calloused hands slid over the soft skin on his back.

Geralt quickly undid the ties to his pants and freed himself from the fabric. In the time it took him to do that, Jaskier drew up his knees lifting his ass to a better level. He bit his lower lip, teeth digging in when Geralt’s hands returned to him. 

Fingers slicked from Geralt’s own source pressed into him; they went smoothly, his body offering no resistance. It hadn’t been that long since their last romp. Jaskier bit the sheets, his body trembling with anticipation.

The fingers pulled away and Jaskier’s skin vibrated. He groaned, heady and loud, when the girth of Geralt’s cock spread him open. The omega curled over his back, nipping the skin stretched over his shoulder blades.

He was going to be this man’s heat partner, he was going to be Geralt’s heat partner. A full body shudder rocked Jaskier when he recalled that fact.

One of Geralt’s hands slid under his chest, finding purchase on his collarbone to pull him back into his thrust. The first thrust was powerful but controlled, a slow deliberate slide that he didn’t allow Jaskier to throw back into. A low growl rolled the alpha’s chest as his desperation grew and he was unaware of the smirk that pulled at Geralt’s lips.

That next thrust, by the gods Jaskier could write sonnets about the second thrust, came hard and ruthless. Everything the alpha wanted. Geralt gave him enough slack that he could grind back onto his omega. The lack of a knot meant Geralt could get deeper earlier.

“Fuck yes.” Jaskier whined, nearly a hiss. Geralt responded by biting the back of his neck wringing a strangled moan out of the other.

Jaskier tried to keep his voice down but the bang of the headboard against the wall must have been giving them away. The thought of someone interrupting, demanding they quiet down and the feral snarl Geralt would answer with. It was like spilling grease on a fire.

Geralt bit him in a fresh spot. The coil deep in Jaskier’s belly snapped, fabric shredded under his nails as he came. Even with the sweet relief of release, he burned with the swelling of his knot.

The omega followed shortly after, not asking to come inside knowing damn well his alpha would snarl if he tried to pull out. He lathed the two fresh bite marks with his tongue, cleaning away the blood as he came down from his high. Slowly he adjusted them into a more comfortable position without pulling out.

Jaskier hummed pleasantly, turning his head to nuzzle along Geralt’s jawline. Fir and pine somehow icy despite the warmth between them was the scent he found. His omega, his witcher, so handsome and too good to him.

“I…” Their eyes met. “Can’t wait to meet your pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Everyone! So I recently remember my old 'a/b/o redux' and thought it would vibe with the witcher universe pretty well!
> 
> Pls tell me your thoughts! VvV


	2. Chapter 2

Roach’s ears pinned back as she was hooked to the cart. Geralt rubbed a hand over her flank, pulling away when she feinted a kick. The both of them were aware that the shaft of wood between them would protect the witcher but she wanted him to know that she would if she could.

“She’ll get over it once we’re on the trail.” Geralt told Jaskier and Roach tossed her head as if trying to disagree.

The cart was filled with rations for winter; jams, flour and cured meats among other foodstuffs. Some tools for maintenance on the keep and some extra furs from beasts the omega had hunted. Jaskier felt a little thrill when he looked at them wondering if Geralt intended to use them for his nest. Their nest, he corrected himself and felt another little thrill.

Roach pulled it, steadfast and loyal, even if she did do the horse equivalent of complaining until the town disappeared over the horizon. When they bedded down for the first night, deep in the middle of the woods, Jaskier set out for firewood while Geralt tended the mare.

It took awhile to find anything that would actually burn, most of it soaked through from the late autumn rains but he was welcomed back by a very pretty sight.

Geralt had shed his armor and shirt; daring this close to Kaer Morhen. He was using a wide, toothless brush to whip the sweat from Roach’s pelt and splatter it to the grass, her shedded summer coat coming out in clumps.

Jaskier leaned against a tree, admiring the flex and bunch of the witcher’s shoulder muscles. Scars curled and straightened like a living painting and the bard filed the idea away for a poem later. Geralt looked so at ease and Kaer Morhen wasn’t even in sight yet.

It warmed the alpha all the way through; the chill in the air was nothing compared to his affection for the other man. Jaskier couldn’t wait to see his omega at the keep, fully at home and in his element.

“If you’re going to be loud you could at least be useful.” Geralt grumbled not looking away from Roach.

“I didn’t say anything.” Even as he defended himself Jaskier’s voice was dreamy.

“Your heart is racing.” Geralt informed him as if the bard couldn’t feel the muscle pattering away behind his ribs.

“All for you ‘mega.”

Geralt’s hand paused and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Put the wood down at least.” Geralt instructed and Jaskier moved from the tree to drop the wood in the center of the little clearing. Jaskier rubbed his arms, joints a little stiff. He must have been standing there longer than he realized.

Geralt made a small gesture and the pile of branches combusted.

“Oh thank you dear-” Jaskier interrupted himself with a squeak. It was easy to forget how quietly and quickly a witcher could move until one was suddenly beside you.

Geralt’s skin was glistening in the firelight. The witcher smelled of horse now, a few of Roach’s hairs stuck to him but the finicky bard could forgive that. Jaskier’s hand moved before his brain could make a plan, though if he was honest the outcome would have been the same.

His fingers trailed down Geralt’s front.

The witcher huffed a small laugh before gently grabbing Jaskier’s wrist. Geralt pressed a small kiss to Jaskier’s palm, his breath tickling the sensitive flesh there. The bard shivered when a hot, slick tongue slid along his finger.

“You’re insatiable.” Jaskier breathed when he regained control of his tongue.

“Big words from a bard.” Geralt replied. The musky scent from his preheat was nearly enough to trigger Jaskier’s rut. Jaskier swallowed thickly, realising that partnering with Geralt through his heat meant the witcher was partnering with him through a rut for the first time.

The scent of arousal surged between them.

Jaskier was in the grass before he could blink. The first thing he processed when he got his bearings was how cold it was. Thankfully he hadn’t been thrown down in a dirt patch.

Even if they had a bedroll down he doubted Geralt would’ve moved for it if the tautness in his body was anything to go by. The omega dragged him into place and tugged open his trousers. Jaskier made himself useful and undid the buttons of his doublet.

A gasp was yanked out of Jaskier. Firstly because the frigid air that blew over his exposed cock then from Geralt’s searing mouth swallowing him down to the root. His hips stuttered as Geralt’s mouth pressed around his knot.

Geralt threw Jaskier’s legs over his shoulders and grabbed his thighs in a bruising grip to keep him still. The omega growled low in his chest, an appreciative sound as he tasted Jaskier. His tongue sliding firmly against the quickly filling knot.

Jaskier babbled above him. Praises and half bitten curses; his nerve endings especially sensitive being surrounded in preheat omega pheromones for so long. Everytime Geralt pulled back he was shocked with a flash of cold only to be enveloped in that mind shattering heat once again.

“Darlin- please... have some mercy!” Jaskier panted knowing Geralt could feel how tightly coiled he was.

Golden eyes flickered up to meet his, reflecting the firelight in flashes of bright green, and Geralt swallowed again. Jaskier’s legs trembled and the omega lifted his head only enough to take the knot out of his mouth, squeezing it with his hand instead. Not a challenge but a demand.

Jaskier tried to bite back a moan but a tightening hand on his knot freed his voice, the moan broken and keening. The powerful grip on his thigh kept him from squirming even as Geralt’s mouth continued to work his cock. His heels slid down the powerful planes of the witcher’s back.

When Geralt was satisfied with what he had swallowed he finally let Jaskier go. Flower petal shaped bruises already forming on the pale skin of his thighs. He nuzzled the thigh with the worst spotting, pressing light kisses to them. The touches sparked little aches that stole Jaskier’s breath.

“Alright,” Jaskier panted, his mind struggling to put the words together. “What can I do for you, love?”

“Already came.” Geralt mumbled with a pleased hum.

“Fuck…” Jaskier let his head fall back. The sky was filled with a thick smattering of stars curling around a waxing moon.

Jaskier returned the favor in the morning before they broke down camp. The autumn sun was a pleasant warmth on his bare back, drying away the dew that had settled over them during the night. The scent of satisfied omega clung heavy between them even as Geralt grumbled about hitting the road later then he wanted.

When the mountains were leering over them, no longer drifts of earth in the middle distance, Geralt turned them off the main road. Seemingly into a ditch to Jaskier but the witcher assured him it was only ‘road’ to the keep. Roach even perked up despite having to pull the cart through the underbrush, looking eager for once.

Her large brown eyes staring after something beyond the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Jaskier is looking... disrespectfully  
> In all honesty I did not intend for this to be as horny as its been ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also this fic has been unofficially beta'd by my lovely friend [ Haruprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haruprincess) so go give her some love! She's writing the fic [ 'Honeysuckle and Lavender'!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26550985/chapters/64723282)


	3. Chapter 3

On the first day of traveling on the ‘road’ alone they had to stop several times to cut the cart clear of underbrush. Vines and briars rolled up in the spokes, thankfully the ground was starting to freeze so there was no muck to sink into.

“Tell me about Vesemir.” Jaskier prodded during one of these times. His doublet shucked off and thrown in the cart, a sweat building up as he tried to work his dagger through the thick vegetation.

“He’s our father, was a fencing instructor back in the day…” Geralt went quiet save for a grunt when he hacked the briars.

“Yes, yes and, hypothetically, if a future heat partner wanted to impress him what should they do?” Jaskier tried not to scowl when Geralt snorted at him.

“We’re not schoolboys Jask, you don’t need to impress my father.” Geralt replied. The briars finally gave, the wooden wheel sliding forward when Roach gave a testing lean. The other wolves would just have to accept his choice in… partner he supposed.

He wet his lips, the salt there was a mild distraction. That was a big talk they hadn’t had.

“But I  _ want _ to impress him!” The bard declared, throwing up his hands.

“Dagger.” Geralt warned, not really worried about the dagger Jaskier held. He circled around and finished what Jaskier started with a sure swing of his iron sword. He paused to press a kiss to his pouting bard’s temple.

“You’ll be fine.” He rubbed a hand down Jaskier’s back. The alpha lightened some, bumping his shoulder into his chest. Geralt wanted to grab him and take him in the underbrush, his scent was so strong and sharp this far from civilization.

But Kaer Morhen called to him. Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier and patted Roach on the flank, the mare yanking the cart clear of the obstruction.

The oaks and maples gave way to firs and pines over the course of a few days. The thick underbrush shortening until it was buried under dried needles. Jaskier struggled to keep pace as both his witcher and the witcher’s steed became more eager.

It caught Jaskier off guard when the trees suddenly ended. The sloping valley stretched out around them, a clear creek rolling down the middle of it and sprouts of brush and heather bursting through stones.

The keep had clearly seen better days but it still stood proud and picturesque against the mountains. Jaskier could feel a sonnet brewing up somewhere deep in his chest. Hopefully the other wolves wouldn’t mind some midday singing.

Oh Melitite he was going to meet the other wolves.

The beautiful vista fell to the background of his mind as he silently coached himself through everything he had weaseled out of Geralt. Which admittedly hadn’t been much but he was charming certainly this would be fine.

However that terrible, anxious snake in his gut only continued to writhe as they neared Kaer Morhen.

No one greeted them when they entered the courtyard. If this was odd Geralt didn’t make any note of it. He just released Roach from her burden; the mare shook out her pelt before running across the wide open space to greet a black stallion. The witcher looked at the horse and hummed. It was one of his thoughtful, pleased hums.

“Here, we’ll take the food in first and say hi.” Geralt explained and Jaskier nodded, accepting the sack pressed into his hands. He almost wanted to be offended when he noticed it was one of the lightest ones but kept his mouth shut when he saw how many stairs were between them and the door. The witcher hauled a barrel over his shoulder with ease.

Jaskier didn’t know what it was about stairs that somehow threw aside all the cardio he did and made his knees burn but he forced himself not to pant, trying to look as collected as Geralt. His nose hurt by the time they reached the top from the force of breathing through it.

Geralt kicked the heavy wooden door and miraculously it swung open.

“Eskel, Leo, get out here and help!” The witcher yelled and Jaskier fumbled with the bag. Geralt cast him an apologetic glance as footfalls approached them.

“Took you long enough…” A man with deep scarring on his face stopped in the entryway. He looked Jaskier up and down then shifted his gaze to Geralt. Before he could say anything another man turned the corner.

The man looked young, Jaskier would guess about his own age. Aging a witcher was difficult but this man didn’t carry himself with the world weariness of the other two men or even that of a human soldier. Jaskier felt pretty confident that this one was Leo.

“Oh is this Jaskier?” Leo asked. Even by witcher standards his eyes were bright, regarding Jaskier curiously. 

Jaskier stepped forward to offer his hand but was stopped by fingers curling on his shoulder from behind. It seemed like Leo had done the same and though Jaskier couldn’t see Eskel’s other hand the sudden tautness of his shirt was plenty of implication. 

“Eskel…” 

“Eskel!” 

Geralt sighed and Leo whirled on the other witcher, his face flushed. Lip curled to reveal fangs and an unfamiliar preheat scent flaring between the four of them. It was sharp and biting like dry peppercorn. Eskel took his hand back from Leo’s shirt.

“He’s new!” Eskel defended himself but looked properly admonished. Leo huffed and turned back to Jaskier, face still a little red.

“Well, I’m Leo and the overbearing beta is Eskel.” The young omega closed the distance and offered a hand to Jaskier.

“I’m not overbearing…” Eskel grumbled but didn’t move when Jaskier took his hand.

“It’s a pleasure.” Jaskier didn’t hesitate to extend the gesture to Eskel. The beta was supposedly the one he would get along with the best and this couldn’t go much worse then a punch to the gut.

Eskel grabbed his forearm, pulling him close and scenting the air around him. The scent that hung around the witcher was typically faint but Jaskier could pick up the powerful smell of forge ash. It left him a little breathless.

The bard isn’t sure what Eskel is looking for but he seemed to find it. He gave a hum to rival Geralt’s and let him go.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Eskel greeted him with an apologetic edge to his voice.

“You as well.” Jaskier tried not to think too much about how big his hand was. Were all witchers just massive?

“Alright, now that the dangerous alpha rogue is handled can you two get to work?” Geralt huffed with a roll of his eyes. His arm was straining a bit from one handing the barrel. Something squirmed inside Jaskier and he shifted the sack off his hip so his fingers wouldn’t fidget.

Leo laughed, shoulder checking Eskel who grumbled again as they walked around the pair.

“They don’t think me a rogue do they?” Jaskier asked hushedly as they walked through the entrance hall. “I mean, I suppose they’re not wrong but-”

He cut himself off when he realized he was about to ramble and didn’t want to be caught babbling by a member of Geralt’s pack. The witcher just smiled fondly at him for a moment.

“You’re the only human who cares what witchers think.” Geralt told him.

“Well of course I do, I care what people think and especially those who are close to people I care about!” Jaskier flushed as he spoke. 

The kitchen was large, the fireplace built into the wall between it and the eating area. A fire raged acting as a fairly decent curtain. Geralt dropped the barrel on the heavy wooden table and took the sack from Jaskier with one hand, pulling the alpha in for a kiss with the other.

Jaskier melted into it, fingers curling in Geralt’s leathers to pull himself even closer. Geralt dipped, burlap hitting the floor, and gripped Jaskier’s thighs, lifting him onto the table with ease. Jaskier’s arms wrapped around the witcher’s shoulders, breathless as Geralt seemed determined to devour him. The scent of his heat was so much stronger now, something deep in Jaskier’s gut roared to life and heat licked up his skin.

“Geralt, if Lambert can’t rut a guest on the table neither can you.” A voice startled the pair apart. Jaskier slipped off the table and tried to hold himself presentably.

The older gentleman standing in the doorway looked between the two of them clearly unimpressed.

“Sorry Vesemir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay finally a mostly non-horny chapter! Lambert's late but we'll be seeing him soon ;3
> 
> As always much love for Haruprincess for being my rubber duck and unofficial beta-reader!
> 
> And please leave a comment if you enjoyed VwV


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